“I think you're going to break more hearts this spring than I'll be able to count.""It isn't your job to count them," he said, his voice quiet and hard."No, it isn't, is it?" She looked over at him and smile wryly. "But I'm going to end up doing it all the same, won't I?""And why is that?"She didn't seem to have an answer to that, and then, just when he was sure she would say no more, she whispered, "Because I won't be able to stop myself.”

“You'll marry me, my dragon, and you'll bear my children, and you'll drive me mad and live in that ramshackle old house with me and I'll even put up with the occasional visit from your sister ifI must. But you'll marry me. Not because you have to. But because I won't let you go.""Why?" she demanded.And he answered the only way he could, in French. "Je't'aime," he said. "I love you.""Je't'aime aussi," she said. "And I will make your life a living hell," she added in the same language.He smiled down at her. "I'm counting on it.”

“This is a great wedding. I like weddings." "It is a good one, isn't it?" she agreed. "But it was always going to be--Emma so efficient." "Isn't she," he said. "I like weddings." Lulu said nothing. "Weddings," he said after a moment. "Funny things, but I like them." Lulu stopped dancing and drew back to look up into his eyes. "If you say that one more time," she said levelly, "I won't take you to the Cheddar cheese shop." "Sorry," he said quickly "I like funerals, too, if that's any help? We do marvelous ones in Ireland, we're famous for them.”

“I won't ask you to stay," he said. Eleanor could barely look at him althought there was nothing more she wanted to do than memorize every line and angle of his face. "But I want to."She inhaled sharply and forced a smile."I won't say 'yes' if you do ask...but I want to.”

“Dana?' [asked Garson].She nodded to show him she was listening.'Why does he call you Scully all the time? I mean, you do have a first name.''Because he can,' she answered simply, without sarcasm, and didn't bother to explain. Just as it would be hard to explain why Mulder was, without question, the best friend she had. It was more than just being partners, being able to rely on each other when one of them was in danger, or when one of them needed a boost when a case seemed to be going bad; and it was more than simply their contrasting styles, which, perversely to some, complemented each other perfectly.What it was, she sometimes thought, was an indefinable instinct, a silent signal that let her know that whatever else changed, whatever else happened, Mulder would always be there when he had to be. One way or another.”

“Something EvilI said, "Ikstein stands outside the door for a long time before he knocks. Did you suspect that? Did you suspect that he stands there listening to what we say before he knocks?" She said, "Did you know you're crazy?" I said, "I'm not crazy. The expression on his face, when I open the door, is giddy and squirmy. As if he'd been doing something evil, like listening outside our door before he knocked." She said, "That's Ikstein's expression. Why do you invite him here? Leave the door open. He won't be able to listen to us. You won't make yourself crazy imagining it." I said, "Brilliant, but he isn't due for an hour and I won't sit here with the door open." She said, "I hate to listen to you talk this way. I won't be involved in your lunatic friendships." She opened the door. Ikstein stood there, giddy and squirmy.”